Dear Kima,

I cannot believe it’s been three years! You have grown so much and are such a good, loving, loyal girl. You are also a pain in the ass. I love you unconditionally.

You are very smart. Even Daddy joked the other day that while Easton is the well behaved one (and, um, that is undeniable) you are definitely the smart one. You are learning all the new rules very quickly. No begging. No jumping. No pulling on the leash. No dogs in the kitchen during meal prep. (Probably Mama should have taught you these things by now. You are spoiled.) Also: get the goose. How do you know which stuffed toy is the goose? You just do. You are smart.

We’ve been through a lot, sweet girl! Mama struggled and fought and sort of gave up but then  fought again and here we are: happy. Outrageously, unbelievably happy!

It’s going to be a big year for you, Bean. We’re moving in less than three weeks and all sorts of changes will be put in place. You get to see Daddy every, single day (and so do I! Mama is probably more excited about this than you are.) You get to play with Easton every, single day. Daddy caught you two snuggling on the couch in the middle of the night when you thought we were sleeping. He snapped a picture for me with his camera phone. It’s really cute.

You’ll have to be in your cage for a little bit every day. I think you’ll be ok with this, since you no longer fear the cage and actually walk in voluntarily (and then wait for your treat as a reward!) This makes me very proud. I haven’t gotten over how cool it is.

There will be daily walks. At least three of them, maybe four. Yeah, you’re going to have to learn how to do your business on a schedule and on command. No more doggie door. I think the extra exercise will be good for the both of us.

Everyone kept telling me that you’d calm down when you turned three. Um, that hasn’t happened yet. You are still full of insane energy and your propensity for jumping on people hasn’t died down. We are actively working on that. It’s not nice. You are too big to jump on people.

You’ve filled out a good bit, coming in at about 86 pounds or so. Maybe a little more, it’s hard to get a good scale reading when your butt is wiggling so hard I swear you’re about to propel yourself off the ground! You still think you’re a lap dog though, and you nuzzle your big head under my chin. You stretch out on the bed and kiss my face over and over and over and then roll over so I will rub your belly.

You are a good dog. The best dog. I would do anything for you. I love you.

We made it, Booper. I know I wouldn’t have without you.

Love,

Mama